


Feel the City

by dxbshevd



Series: Dani x Jamie Stories [5]
Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: All wrapped up in New York City?, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Grad student Dani? Maybe, Lots of Art!, Lots of Music... per usual!, Photographer Jamie? Maybe, Romance, Slow Burn, This one will be a ride, you betcha!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:27:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29569593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dxbshevd/pseuds/dxbshevd
Summary: “‘You don’t like me do you?’ Jamie inquires boldly, voice low as she exhales a plume of smoke in Dani’s direction.Dani huffs quietly and smiles nervously, fully expecting Jamie to be merely quipping her, but she keeps that look on her face which has not a tinge of tease apparent in it. Still, she wears that rakish smirk and those eyes. Eyes that are obscured by the dark but somehow gleam just perfectly under the moonlight to reveal that intent stare. Staring at her as if she’s known Dani all along, knows every bit of her. Every intricacy, every intention. Is fully aware that Dani is skeptical of her, disappointed even that this is the woman she was ordained to meet.Dani has not a clue what to say.”Dani and Jamie are brought together by two friends. Initially, they clash, but somehow they keep finding their way back to each other.
Relationships: Dani Clayton & Hannah Grose, Dani Clayton & Jamie, Dani Clayton & Owen Sharma, Dani Clayton/Jamie, Hannah Grose/Owen Sharma, Jamie & Owen Sharma
Series: Dani x Jamie Stories [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057250
Comments: 64
Kudos: 115





	1. what lurks deep inside

“I don’t get the big deal,” Dani sighs, cellphone nestled between her shoulder and ear as she attempts to slip her books into her backpack while simultaneously scrambling out of the train. The flood of the afternoon’s students and workers on their way home releases a clamoring sound and nature that concocts bitterly with her boyfriend Eddie’s frustrated ranting on the other side of the phone. 

“Eddie… No-I-bu- I understand. Wait… your mom said what?” she says, voice seemingly altering from impotence to exasperation to jar all in brief moments as she walks up the steps to the loud, bustling streets of 8th Avenue in Chelsea with an abundance of honking horns, screeching brakes, and jumbled conversation. Dani slings her maroon backpack over her shoulder, rearranges her mauve sweater, and tucks one arm around her torso before continuing down the street with a purposed pace, looking around at the city that is perfectly haloed under the vibrant setting sun. 

“Eddie, I don’t want to go back home, we can just have dinner here… or in Boston. Why do we… Eddie, we haven’t even gone back for Thanksgiving in so… I don’t…” Dani runs a piqued hand through her hair as she averts her gaze to the sidewalk, focusing on the stride of her sneakers to keep her mind from hurdling into a state of vexation because Eddie, per usual, won’t let her get a substantial word in. She waits for him to finish his tangent, listening as he peppers her name — or rather the form of her name she loathes, _Danielle —_ and goes on about his mother’s adamant request that they return to Iowa for the holiday, something Dani certainly doesn’t want to do. _Certainly won’t do._

Dani finds a gap in his tirade to jump in to provide her stance, “Eddie, you know how I feel about… _Shit,”_ she hisses after being nearly sent reeling from someone ramming into her shoulder as they passed her swiftly. She looks behind herself with a mild scoff as she sees the culprit walk away unapologetically, not even turning to acknowledge her. Immediately, she curses her awful choice in focusing on the ground instead of the path in front of her, which is a jungle burgeoning with people waltzing and whizzing by in the rush of the evening return home. She rolls the wounded shoulder to soothe the ache and tuts into the phone. “Eddie, can I call you back later? Yes, I promise we’ll talk about this. Yeah. _Yes._ Okay. Yeah, lo-love you too.” 

Dani ends the call with a firm tap of her thumb to the screen. Before stowing the phone into her pocket, she lingers for a moment on Eddie’s contact information where a small photo of him resides. She remembers taking that photo, remembers herself gazing adoringly at his dark curls and gentle brown eyes under those circular glasses he constantly had to push up the bridge of his nose. He wears that characteristic crooked simper that should be endearing in every way — at one point, some time ago it was endearing, an image Dani anticipated seeing. But that smile, one that could light up anyone else’s world, does nothing for her now. Maybe it generates the most subtle ache in her chest, one she can’t exactly explain. Maybe it is guilt. 

She realizes now it’s been four months since she has seen that face in person. Four months, and she doesn’t feel upset in the slightest that he is away in Massachusetts, and she is here in New York. In fact, she feels so neutral about it that it garners a certain unwelcome pang. One that confirms her feeling of guilt. It stings a bit, digs a couple of nails into her heart for a beat before it dissipates completely. She knows she should care more than this. After all, she’s known him for fifteen years, going on their eighth year of dating now. She adored him and loved spending every moment with him when everything was so new and juvenile. Completely innocent. That was before she ever matured and garnered a clue or gave a moment to self-reflect. Now, the distance is peaceful. 

As she does more often than she likes to admit, she reflects on how she even got here. To this point of such staunch indifference towards a man she used to adore completely. How did she go from a child and a naive teenager enthralled by Eddie’s presence to an adult who cringes and shudders at the very idea of his presence? It was like the moment they had become adults, everything exploded. Everything moved so fast that Dani felt she couldn’t keep up. Suddenly, there was the conversation about spending a lifetime together. Vivid descriptions of a home and marriage by the end of college. Then it was him following her to New York for university, him upstate at Cornell, her in the city at Barnard. That was the first time she felt suffocated because New York was hers, and he stifled her anticipated freedom. There may have been four hours between them, but the borders of a state keeping them together made it all the more confining. 

Then, there was the unexpected understanding of herself that she had never experienced before given she grew up in a small mundane town just outside Des Moines. Thought nothing could get more exciting than that. That life would always be redundant and beige. Everyone fell in love in high school; everyone got married after college; every woman raised the children and held the same vocations. Every person did the same exact thing like an endless cycle that was made out to be some kind of desired tradition. Dani accepted that fate, convinced herself wholly that there was nothing else she could have than that. Well, she believed that until she was catapulted into a life at eighteen that was so vibrant with liberty and heterogeneity. Suddenly that life Eddie crafted for them, that idea of forever, seemed like a meer mumble a thousand miles away. The shackles of what once defined her — the entrapment of monotonous routine, grey and flat — were undone and left behind. No longer was she Danielle Clayton from Des Moines, Iowa. No, she was Dani. Dani, who had a say in her life, could write it herself instead of following in suit with everyone else.

Along with this reminder of her boundless freedom, Dani remembers other, far less savory things she discovered of herself that she’d rather stow away for the time being. She recalls several situations that are muddied now because of her desire to forget them. She remembers a particular house party where a girl kissed her on the cheek her freshman year. She remembers a classmate, Olivia, who paired a gentle brush over Dani’s hand with the most beautiful fit of laughter she had ever seen. She remembers the many women she shared brief eye contact with at coffee shops and bars. The mere thought of them makes her shudder and squeeze her eyes shut for a beat to fend off that unsolicited concept of her identity that she still hasn’t come to terms with. No, certainly not yet. 

God, she needs a drink. 

Dani has memorized this route to such an extent that she takes not even a moment to observe the storefronts or crosswalks as she speedily gaits. It is a path so habitual she can sense the very moment she lands before the door of her destination. When she sees the window-paned door with the indicative white, crisp writing — _A Batter Place,_ which elicits the same cackle and shake of the head as the hundreds of times she has encountered it before — she feels like she can finally breathe.

She pushes herself into the quaint café where Dani soaks in the familiarity of it all. The blissful smell of pastries and intense, savory coffee has Dani already anticipating. The matured brick walls and cream accents are as remarkable as ever, especially illuminated under the soft glow of the dim, golden bulbs that are scattered about the ceiling. The beloved creak of the deep, aged oak floors is music to Dani’s ears along with the pristine hissing of a steam pitcher and the soft laughing coming from the massive, walnut bar in the center of the cafe. If Dani didn’t have that banal and small apartment she calls hers just a couple of blocks down, this would most certainly be home.

Upon hearing the distinct, harmonized chuckling, Dani averts her gaze towards the sound where she sees the two people she hasn’t seen in weeks. Her best friends. Hannah — with her distinctive turtleneck, this time in olive green — leaning in with a chin perched in her hands as she gazes lovingly at Owen. He stands behind the bar, adorned in his signature sweater, today he has chosen grey. He is attentively crafting Hannah a latte, swirling and jiggling the pitcher of milk with a practiced finesse until he has crafted the perfect heart adorning the foam. He proffers the mug to Hannah who takes it with the widest smile Dani has ever seen. 

There are times when Dani observes their love, filled to the brim with effortless devotion and affection, and yearns for something as wonderful. To have such a bond with someone that the mere acts of gazing and making a latte are enough to garner wide, cheek-splitting grins and glistening eyes. Dani would be lying if she said she didn’t want that. She knows she has it waiting for her in Boston, but even the idea of falling into a routine with him sounds exhausting. Hannah and Owen are a keen reminder that one must not settle, that the right person will come along. It’s a mantra Dani has to repeat to herself. _You shouldn’t settle._ However, her daft and stubborn mind has yet to listen to the damn words. 

Dani hoists herself onto a barstool beside Hannah and brushes a greeting hand across her back. “Hi,” she smiles, out of breath from her quick trek to the café. 

Hannah gasps and turns to her, giving her that distinct grin that Dani missed so much. Filled to the brim with jubilation at this awaited reunion. “There you are.” 

Dani raises her eyebrows and inhales to allude to the taxing day she has endured. “Yeah, sorry. Class went a bit longer than expected,” she explains as she does away with the backpack on her back and settles it on the stool beside her. She swivels towards Owen, greeting him with a bright smile. “Hey, Owen.” 

Owen turns from where he was rummaging through the pastry case, a plate with a pastry upon it in his hands. “Why hello, Dani,” he grins with that familiar glint and softness that welcomes Dani farther into the comfort of their company. 

“Feuilleté aux pommes,” he says in impeccable French. “Or an apple pastry. Took a shot at them this morning, not half bad.”

“Wow,” Dani marvels softly as he puts the plate in front of her, revealing an exquisite pastry covered in powdered sugar with delicately sliced apples within the center. She simpers graciously up at him. “Really missed me, didn’t you Owen?” 

Owen leans against the bar top with his elbows. “You _know_ I missed you. Tough not seeing you around the café every day.” 

“I’m fairly certain Owen shed a tear or two without you here to give him company,” Hannah jests with a coy smirk. 

“She’s right. I was a wreck. Cried all the time. About added latte with a side of tears to the menu because I cried so much; didn’t want the tears to go to waste.” 

Dani cracks a jovial smile and huffs a small genuine laugh, two things she hasn’t felt nor heard in far too long. Leave it to these two to offer the chance for unadulterated joy in a matter of minutes upon seeing them again. Dani is certain that if she hadn’t ended up here she would have barrelled down a path of angst-ridden insanity. 

“Can I get you a coffee?” he asks as he returns to the bar, awaiting her choice.

“Anything as long as it has… you know,” she says as she mimes pouring a bottle of an undisclosed liquid into an invisible mug. 

“Ah, a quality kick,” he nods and winks with a knowing expression. “Have the perfect thing in mind.” 

Hannah clears her throat. “Something tells me these couple of weeks have been hardly ideal,” she observes as she brings her latte to her lips, gesturing her eyes over at Owen in reference to him pouring a hefty shot of amaretto into Dani’s coffee. 

Dani chuckles as she brings a forkful of the delicate pastry up for a bite. She shrugs, much too reticent with her internal adversity for her own good to offer any confession freely. Her eyes drop to the pastry. “Hasn’t been horrible,” she says. Owen hands her the coffee for which she thanks him softly with a pristine simper. It drops soon after as she eyes Hannah. “Not great either.”

“Tell me, then,” Hannah says as she pats Dani’s knee. “Haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks. You must tell me what you’ve been up to.” 

Dani raises her brows and inhales sharply, a motion of preparation in order to reign in enough sanity to delve into the happenings of her weeks without Hannah. “Oh, you know, wracked with stress about my thesis. Still have no idea what to write about,” she begins with a frustrated huff then she sips the strong beverage, wincing lightly until the bitterness is subdued by the relaxing effects of the liqueur. “The kids. God, I love those two kids, but they drive me crazy, Han. Miles can hardly sit still for a minute. Flora is in an entirely different world. I can’t blame them though… with everything they’re going through. But it’s hardly a good thing when their uncle is breathing down my neck because Miles is nearly failing two of his classes, and Flora can’t recite a damn thing we go over.” She puts her forehead in the support of her palm to release a bit of her pent-up stress. “I just don’t think I’m cut out for this, Hannah. How do you do it? Teach every day? I mean… all I do is tutor, but you teach hundreds of them a day.” 

“Well they’re all twenty, not ten… and the girl, you said she’s eight, right?” Hannah inquires, looking at Dani as if she is attempting to read something further. Hannah’s good; has always been good at knowing how much Dani is revealing and how much she isn’t. It appears — because of that keen peer and pursed expression, albeit subtle — Dani has fallen victim to it again. 

“Yes, eight,” Dani replies, her own eyes staring into Hannah’s as she tries to procure her intentions with this subtle study. Dani runs a hand through her long, blonde hair and shakes it gently until she feels it has fallen exactly as it had been before. “Look at me. Haven’t seen either of you in two weeks, and I’m torturing you with my grievances,” she chuckles. 

“Well, I hardly think you’ve been given the chance to air them. Lindsey and you having a go at each other?” she asks, referring to Dani and her roommate, Lindsey’s, fight a month prior over the apartment. 

“Oh, we’re fine,” Dani says as she flaps a reassuring hand down. “Got over that one quickly. She’s never home though. She’s always uptown with her boyfriend,” she says with another sip of her coffee. 

Hannah swallows and leans towards Dani, that undesired motherly gleam in her eyes. The one that reads of her deep regard, but instead of reassuring Dani, she only nervously anticipates whatever is about to come out of her mouth. “Speaking of boyfriends.”

Dani hums and purses her lips, feeling those sudden displeased, anxious, and repugnant feelings pool into her again. 

“Yeah, speaking of.” Her eyes drag down to the mug in front of her, her fingertip circling the rim absentmindedly. 

“Oh, Dani. Still not good?” She says so with such nauseating sympathy that Dani feels she could cry. In fact, that lump begins to bundle in her throat, but she gulps it down. 

“When has it ever been?” she asks with a head still bowed, looking up at Hannah timidly through her brows. “Particularly bad… well not bad… not good as of right now.” Dani sighs and sits back, crossing her arms and staring blankly at the coffee. “He wants me to go back home… for Thanksgiving.” 

“Home could be nice,” Hannah supposes to lighten Dani’s spirits, but it doesn’t suffice. Only makes Dani cringe lightly as the idea alone feels like the real thing. Suddenly, she feels the air of Iowa scratch at her skin, the sounds ring wretchedly in her ears, the faces she finds unfamiliar and hardly memorable fill her with angst and remorse. 

Dani shakes her head, possibly too aggressively, before gently tilting her gaze to Hannah. “No. I’m on a streak. Three years it’s been since I stepped foot in that state, and I’m planning on going another three. Then another three.” 

Hannah nods in understanding. “But _he_ wants you to go. Did you tell him you didn’t want to?” 

“Course I did,” she chuckles cynically. “But of course that doesn’t matter. Eight years that hasn’t mattered.” 

“Eight years, Dani? It’s been that long already? Why do you put yourself through these things?” Hannah looks perplexed that a person would ever put themselves through something so strenuous and agonizing as a failing relationship, especially given she’s been in a perfect one for the same amount of time. 

“Nearly. Off and on of course, but you knew that.” Dani sees that inviting twinkle in Hannah’s eyes, the one that urges Dani to air her grievances. Let everything loose; now that Dani is given the opportunity, she knows she ought to take it. To settle the pestering nerves that talking about Eddie produces, she eyes the bottle of liqueur behind the bar with a hankering peer. She looks to Owen who is busy cleaning the bartop to notice her averted stare. “Hey Owen, do you think I could…?” she begins, pointing at the bottle of liqueur that is just beyond her reach. “Can I… more of…” 

He turns abruptly, darting his vision from Dani and to where she is pointing. He nods as he finally understands.“Say no more.” He hands her the bottle, allowing Dani to pour more of it into her already potent beverage. “Be careful with that, Dani,” he playfully warns. 

After Dani offers some of the amaretto to Hannah, she refuses it gently, “Oh no, no.” She leans her chin into a perched fist on the bartop as she watches Dani fumble for an explanation. 

“I mean… I love him, Hannah. I do… I just… ” She cringes at her own words, realizing that she isn’t so sure of them now. “He’s a good guy… I’m just…” She stops as she can’t seem to formulate anything convincing; rather, she believes it’s better to declare the explanation unsalvageable and hope the topic changes. 

Hannah lightly frowns sympathetically. “Think this is a rather grim topic for a long-awaited reunion, yeah?” Hannah sighs as she puts her hand on Dani’s that is resting on the bartop. 

“You’re tellin’ me,” Dani huffs with a mousy laugh, taking another bite of the neglected pastry. “What have you two been up to?” she asks with a mouthful. 

Hannah eyes Owen from her peripheral, spinning her now empty cup with her index finger. 

“Owen’s got his hands full with the café. Marshall’s out of town, so Owen’s been taking care of the thing for the past few weeks.” 

“He’s left it in excellent hands.” 

“Don’t doubt it,” Dani says. “You helped open it after all.” 

“Gave it its name too,” Owen sighs proudly as he goes back to wiping down tables. 

“And it’s still insufferable,” Hannah cackles. 

“Oh, you love it.” Owen walks over and places a kiss on her head, caressing a hand down the length of it tenderly down to her shoulder then patting it gently before going off to the other side of the café. 

“As for me,” Hannah begins. “Have two lectures this semester and a seminar at Barnard once a week which is… an awful train ride, but I cope.” 

Returning behind the bar, Owen leans against the bartop and folds his hands. He raises his brows suggestively like he is hiding the world’s most riveting secret. “Did you tell her the best part, Han?”

“The best part?” Hannah inquires curiously. 

“We,” he begins with a smile gleaming with pride and excitement, his eyes glistening as he looks at Hannah. The pause generates suspense so intense in Dani that she darts her eyes back and forth between them in an attempt to gather the news before Owen can even reveal it. He continues happily, “are getting a new roommate.” 

“Oh yes, that,” Hannah smiles, her eyes gazing at Owen in a way that is just a bit too adoringly for news like that. 

Dani continues darting back and forth between them, utterly puzzled. “A new… Oh my god!” she exclaims once she thinks she has formulated what Owen is suggesting, given his regularly delivered jokes and wit. She suddenly feels giddy with excitement. “A new _roommate?_ Hannah, are you… ?”

It’s silent for a few moments as Hannah and Owen look awfully confused — knit brows and pursed lips that undeniably match — before they are bursting into laughter at Dani’s insinuation. 

“Wha-What? _Oh,_ no… Oh, dear no. No, not that,” Hannah replies quickly with a staunch shake of her head. “Owen why must you deliver news the way you do? No, we are getting an actual roommate… an adult… not an infant.” 

Dani tuts and frowns. “Damn, got me really excited there,” she mutters then she is looking back and forth between them again with furrowed brows. “Wait… a roommate? Why the hell are you getting a roommate?” 

Hannah points a thumb in Owen’s direction. “Owen here talked our dear friend into coming to New York. Didn’t you, Owen?” 

Owen’s proud smile returns which has Dani assuming this friend means the absolute world to him. “I did,” he nods. “Took bloody forever to convince her, but she finally agreed. Think she’ll do well out here.” 

Dani sits back, offering her full attention to the both of them. “Color me interested. Who is she?”

“Her name’s Jamie. Met her while Owen and I were at uni. We-uh… worked together for some time actually. Then Owen and I came here after we graduated.” 

“We’ve seen her a couple of times since… hasn’t she met her, Han?”

“No, I don’t think so. Think the last time she came to visit, Dani was still at Barnard. Was years ago,” Hannah takes a moment to visibly contemplate whether or not Dani had ever met this woman. Dani has herself wondering if Hannah had ever introduced her to a woman named Jamie. She rakes through the numerous people she has been introduced to, and none of them meet the description of Jamie.

Hannah shakes her head from her thinking and inhales, continuing, “To make a long story short, we haven’t seen her in ages.” 

And that's it. Hannah nor Owen delve any deeper which has Dani scoffing as she watches Owen go off to collect his jacket and Hannah pull out her phone to check emails. 

Hannah looks back at her in response to her displeased sound. “What?” 

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I want to know about her. Think I should know who is about to come live with my two best friends, no?”

“Jamie is… How do I describe her?” Owen considers aloud as he pulls on his denim jacket and walks around the bar, standing behind Hannah and Dani. “Suppose she’s a runt with a passion.” He laughs at his own remark. 

“Owen,” Hannah scolds and rolls her eyes with a simper. “Jamie’s wonderful. A bit rough around the edges, can’t deny her that. She’s got quite the eye for photography. A real talent. She started really making a name for herself in London.” Hannah shrugs. “Guess she’d rather start over here, though.” 

“Oh, and she’s got a knack for gardening. Reminds me that I’ll have to convince her to bring all our famished plants back to life. Don’t let me forget to tell her that,” Owen says as he walks towards the backroom. “Be right back,” he calls. 

Jamie. Dani doesn’t even know this woman, nor does she know what she looks like but the brief summary of her is enough to have Dani undeniably intrigued. So intrigued that her mind is already conjuring up floods of quickly formulated images, figures that Dani assumes she must look like. Dani seems to imagine a woman with long auburn hair, honey eyes that glow with wide grins; dressed always in green and vibrant colors that mirror the garden she labors and landscapes she captures. Oh, she has to know if she is right. 

“What does she look like?” Dani blurts. 

Hannah gives her this puzzled look that Dani has certainly seen before. If Dani hadn’t known her for several years, she is certain she could have missed that vague knit-brow and split-second squint. It has Dani realizing she is acting quite odd wanting so badly to know about this woman.

Dani can hardly explain it herself. Maybe it’s because she hasn’t met an intriguing new person since… Well, since Hannah and Owen. Maybe it’s because she has always had an interest in photography. Maybe it’s because every plant she owns has ended up dead within days. Maybe it’s because… 

No use in making sense of it because Dani can’t even explain it. 

As Hannah scrolls through her photo gallery for a picture to present, she shakes her head. “See the irony is she takes about a hundred photographs a day, but she loathes a photo of herself,” she snides under her breath. “Ah, there we go. It’s a bit old… think it was four years ago, but she doesn’t look much different.” Hannah hands Dani her phone. 

Dani peers at the photo, studying the two figures in the photo. One is Owen, uncannily clean-shaven with no glasses which is about the most jarring thing she has seen, so she pinches to zoom in, leaving just Jamie in view. She is leaned against Owen, his arm around her shoulder and her stature much shorter and petite than his. A lavender sweatshirt nearly swallows her entire torso, and her hands are buried in the pocket. Her light-wash, frayed, denim shorts reveal the expanse of her tanned thighs down to her Converse that are indecipherably white under all of the dirt and muck marking them. Dark-brown hair is tied up loosely, leaving unruly curls to fall and frame her face effortlessly. Most notably, she has this one-eyed squint brought on by what Dani assumes is the bombarding sun and a youthful, hooked smirk that shouldn’t be so endearing, but Dani can’t help but simper as if Jamie is smiling at her. 

If there is one thing, Jamie looks nothing like what Dani surmised in her head; somehow, this is better. Far better. She seems so soft and coy, innocent and honest. There is something so infectious that is drawing Dani to this woman. Something inexplicable, but it exists. There is no doubt about that as evidenced by Dani not being able to pry her eyes away from the photo. 

“She’ll be at the dinner party next Friday. You’re coming to that, right?”

Hannah’s voice pulls her from her intensely focused study, and she eyes her inquisitive and nonplussed until she finally processes what she had said. She softens her knit expression to a slightly relaxed frown and nearly squinted eyes to convey her gentle pique. 

“You think I’d ever miss that? When have I ever missed one of those?”

“Only wanted to make sure,” Hannah says, a faint smirk on her face as she eyes Dani then the photo then back to her. Dani studies that stare, reads that notion of awareness in Hannah that Dani doesn’t understand. It’s as if Hannah knows something Dani doesn’t. Even more startling, it’s something about herself that Hannah knows. Like Dani’s face is an open text for Hannah to read freely. She looks away quickly to prevent any further studying. Her eyes subtly dart back and forth along the bar counter as she wonders intently what the hell it is that Hannah knows. 

Dani bows her head towards the phone again and hardly perceives whether or not Hannah goes back to talking because her eyes seem to be drawn permanently to the photo. This woman, rather normal looking, is making it extremely hard for Dani to focus on anything else but her. Her unorthodox wonder and allure, given her rather generic appearance, baffle Dani. What is it about this woman that Dani is so drawn to? Why is she already imagining their meeting and the words they will share in their introduction? Why is she so invested in a person she only knew existed minutes before? 

Dani shakes her head in a visible attempt to ward off the thoughts as she locks the screen and hands the phone back to Hannah. She takes another sip of her coffee and stares ahead, thinking about that future dinner party and how it may hold the first exciting encounter she has experienced in far too long. It’s then that she realizes that this excitement, this anticipation, only means one thing. It’s exactly what Dani dreads but that keen notion rises and bubbles into her consciousness. Dani tries squashing it, pushing it down with all her might. Oh, but it’s there, undeniably present. Uninvited, that abhorrent concept of herself — one she doesn’t even have the courage or gall to accept — swathes her completely. 

_Interesting_ . That is what Dani believes that Friday evening will be. _Very interesting_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back!! Didn’t think I would be so soon, but here I am! Got a few things to say so ahem:
> 
> Firstly, thanks to my bud shknofftherust for hyping me up and reading this chapter haha. This thing wouldn’t have happened without them, so thanks dude!!
> 
> Secondly, I have made a tumblr blog for my fics! The username is the same as this, dxbshevd. So, please go on over there if you want to chat or literally whatever. I’ll be over there posting some visuals for this fic, some notes, and of course, like the 70s au, all the music that I listen to while writing.
> 
> Thanks everyone, and I hope you guys are doing well! 
> 
> (Chapter Title comes from Mrs. Magic by Strawberry Guy.)


	2. those eyes light a fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the dinner party, Dani encounters Jamie, and she isn’t at all who she expects.

When Saturday evening rolls around, Dani finds herself standing outside of Hannah and Owen’s apartment. She’s unsure how long she’s been standing in this fluorescently lit hallway, frozen in front of the door and undeniably tense to the point her muscles are near rippling due to her boisterous nerves. 

Dani’s no people person. Sure, she can manage when needed, but even the thought of mingling with other people, let alone these people, is nauseating. 

She prepares herself momentarily by crafting a semblance of a script to face the guests with. Closing her eyes, she runs through it a few times to really etch it in her mind. She cringes and shakes her head when she realizes how stale and moronic they sound. 

She feels increasingly more foolish when she realizes just who the rehearsing is intended for. Promptly, she is reminded of unruly pinned brown hair and a small frame swallowed nearly whole in a lavender jumper; an endearingly contorted upturn of the lips and a squint resurface in her mind. Jamie is who she is meeting tonight. Jamie. The one Hannah and Owen have been gushing about all week, preparing Dani to meet her. 

Tonight she meets Jamie, and Dani realizes she must be brave. 

Finally, she invites herself into Hannah and Owen’s humble apartment where its warmth and familiarity envelopes her. She is welcomed by the greeting creak of the old wood flooring and the cream walls adorned with intricately placed art pieces of all kinds. She’s pulled in by the glow of golden lighting and the ever-playing eclectic jazz coming from the depths of the apartment. 

She follows the music that incrementally gets louder along with the emulsion of muddied chatter. A group of nine people loiters in the sitting room with their glasses already in hand — some sit on the chairs and sofas, others observe the art hung on the walls. There may not be many of them, but Dani is still daunted. As if she’s one against them all, to be preyed on and weakened with no one there to hold her up. 

Dani slips around the corner into the kitchen in an attempt to remain unnoticed by the group, hoping that Hannah and Owen are in there. Much to her relief, they stand there against the stove, Hannah leaned up against Owen with a hand on his back as he stirs something over the burner. They’re mumbling to one another; however, it is indecipherable to Dani. 

Immediately, Hannah turns upon suspecting her presence. Her expression instantaneously beams when she sees Dani, walking over to her and pulling her into a warm embrace. She gives her a squeeze. 

“About time you showed up,” she teases then pulls back, continuing to hold onto Dani’s arms. She studies what Dani is wearing, an atypical pale-pink, sleeved dress with a plunging neckline and a waist that cinches nearly too tight. Its delicate fabric flows down to her calves and sways gently when Dani teeters subtly under Hannah’s study. “Who put you up to this?” 

Dani looks down at herself and blushes softly, only enough to match the shade of her garment. She swallows and looks at Hannah again. “You don’t like it.” 

“Oh no, I love it. Suits you,” she reassures as her grasp slips off of Dani’s arms, and she winks at her playfully. “Only used to you swallowed whole by jumpers and thick trousers.” Dani rolls her eyes and watches Hannah pull the cork out of a bottle of wine then walk to a cupboard. 

Dani makes her way over to the stove where Owen whistles along to the jazz music that seeps into the kitchen. She hovers over his forearm to get a glimpse of what he is cooking, humming in approval upon her brief inspection. 

“Was worried you had forgotten about us,” he reaches over the counter for his phone, showing Dani the lock-screen to accentuate the time, “half an hour late, love.” His serious expression quickly dissipates into a soft, playful smirk. 

“Oh, so you’re scolding me now?” Dani retorts with feigned annoyance before dissolving into soft giggles. 

He begins to respond before he is interrupted by loud laughter ringing from the sitting room. The sound has all three of them darting their eyes to the general direction of the sound, all obviously startled. 

Dani asks, “What’s going on out there?”

“Probably laughing at one of Jamie’s awful jokes,” Owen grumbles. “Everyone thinks she’s funny, but I tell one of my jokes, and I only get crickets.” 

“Oh, Owen, stop that. People love your jokes,” Hannah assures as she reaches into a cupboard above her for a glass. Once she has it in her grip, she carefully pours the wine. 

Owen eyes Dani and shakes his head. “She only says that because she has to.” 

“I certainly don’t have to.” 

Dani scoffs a laugh and leans against the counter, feeling comforted for the time being only being in their presence. 

Hannah stands next to her and hands her the glass of wine, placing an arm around her. She gives her a stern look.“So, are you going to recluse back here, or are you going to say hello?” she asks, entirely parental in nature.

Dani sips the wine then gently itches her wrist, looking over to where the people are with knit brows. “Suppose I should.” 

_Be brave, Dani. Be brave._

Hannah ushers her out, reminding her of everyone who is in attendance. She attempts to integrate Dani, but she remains at the sidelines even after Hannah leaves her to her own devices. 

She assesses the situation and gathers her bearings, peering on with her hopeless demure. It’s odd how a group of people seem to generate such a perfect emulsion; however, Dani knows she’d be the odd one out. She doesn’t fit there. Never has, never will. 

She logs those she has met before and those she hasn’t. She sees Jeremy and his wife Lillian, two people she knew from Barnard, gazing at a large, vibrant canvas painting on one wall. Then, unfortunately, she sees Peter sitting on the couch hovering over another person beside him. And as she follows that person’s hover, she sees another man who is leaned intently, his elbows resting on his knees and eyes gawking up at the person sitting in the middle of the sofa. 

Clear in view, a woman sits there with an evidently blasé posture. Her back rests against the cushion, and her right ankle is crossed over her left knee. Whilst in deep conversation, one hand motions to allude to her inaudible speaking, and the other mindlessly bounces a teal carton of cigarettes on her thigh. 

Dani scans her from head to toe in initial enthrallment. She has intrinsically, tightly-waved, brown hair that falls right to the summit of her shoulders. Within her brief analysis, Dani watches her fingers shag at the curls until the shorter, more kinked bits fall to cover her eye mysteriously. Upon watching that arm raise, she recognizes her forearm is embellished with black ink. One tattoo runs from her wrist to the crease of her elbow. 

Her eyes dip lower to the black button-up she is wearing with sleeves that must have been mindlessly bunched up to her elbows because they slip slightly here and there to which she must push them up again swiftly. 

Condemningly, she catches herself stalling at the buttons that cease to be latched which reveal an expansive area of her chest, a plain for several silver chains to lay, and Dani can’t seem to take her eyes off of it for a few shameful moments. Once she can shake herself from the trance, her eyes run down to a pair of pleated black trousers that cuff to reveal a pair of impeccably polished black, combat boots; one of them taps to the music that is playing, cadenced and placid, the other bobs gently over the opposite knee.

Dani squints, wondering how she can pull off such an unrefined and casual-looking outfit at a dinner party of this stature where everyone wears neat and crisp garments with vibrant hues. But she sits there in a black, crass outfit that Dani can’t deny is pulled off well.

It’s when Dani takes a moment to study her face do things begin to piece together. Her features, chiseled and glowing so distinctly among her audience, are familiar. So familiar that Dani’s eyes go wide. Her heart seems to skip a beat, and the hand at her side clenches as it begins to make sense. The brown curls, the hooked smile, the small stature, the novel allure. That’s Jamie. 

That’s Jamie? 

Dani recalls the photo she was shown. A woman drowning in a lavender sweatshirt, hair pinned up to reveal her whole face save for a few unruly curls, and shorts with a pair of sneakers. A smile and squint along with the gentlest blush are permanently marked in Dani’s mind. She recounts the softness and innocence the image exuded, and it resembles nothing near what Dani sees now. 

Now, Dani sees a woman whose color is fairly sparse, solid and sharp. That memorable gleam that was presented in the photo is nonexistent here. Jamie sits there so bewilderingly collected with her shadowed appearance. Dressed in all black with hair that drops to frame her face and hide it to an extent.

Complacency and imperiousness seem to fill her abundantly given the way she visibly enjoys being fawned over her with fountains of questions and adulation. They ogle at her like she is a distinction, feeding off of her enigma and allure. 

The latter, Dani tries to deny. Even when she feels that warmth blossom in the pit of her belly — a feeling she has encountered only a few other times — and rush upwards to splotch and burn her cheeks and ears to the point she has to gulp for composure as to prevent falling into some kind of nauseated daze, she blames it on the shock. The shock of waiting this long. An entire nine days to meet this woman she had so perfectly conjured up in her brain. Her entire personality, her entire appearance, even her face, is not at all what she expected. 

It seems Dani expected Jamie to be a ray of exuberant, glistening grins, but she received a vain and smirking penumbra. Dani is certain this may be the most riveting and upsetting development she’s ever encountered. 

“See you’ve noticed the spectacle,” a woman’s voice comments near her with a familiar London accent. Rebecca. 

  
Dani scoffs a laugh and faces her, immediately regarding how long it has been since she saw Rebecca. They shared a few classes at Barnard, both meeting Hannah there a few years back. She still remains the same, poised and elegant, beautiful too. 

Dani takes a drink of her wine, giving Rebecca a welcoming smile. “I guess I have.” 

“Jamie,” she says. “People look forward to her arrival like it's the bloody solar eclipse.” Rebecca crosses her arms and tilts her head to eye Jamie along with Dani. “If you thought you were alright, her company will surely humble you.” 

Reestablishing her study on Jamie, Dani inquires, “Why do you say that?”

“Oh… well she has it all.”

Dani looks over at Rebecca expectantly, waiting for her to divulge into whatever she possibly means. Dani is intrigued, almost needing to know about Jamie. 

“Well she has the looks,” Rebecca begins. As if cinematically on cue, Jamie does that characteristic crooked smirk and raise of one brow into something daringly close to a smolder which has everyone swooning and gawking at her like she has hung the moon and stars.

“Then there is the charm.” Suddenly, Jamie’s riveting story that all the people are strung to earnestly, spews an expertly engaging remark that sparks simultaneous laughter. 

“And the talent,” Rebecca sighs as she points to a trio of large, framed photographs that expand across the wall opposite them. They’re monochromatic portraits, each of one subject — strangers to Dani — who hold a bundle of wildflowers of varying life cycles. One is lively, another wilting, and the last completely withered and dry. The photos are crisp and adroitly crafted which conveys Jamie’s undeniable talent. 

For some reason, Rebecca’s unadulterated introduction makes Dani even more chagrined. This is the woman Hannah and Owen like? Her? An uppity artist who is well aware of her stature and drinks up the praise like it is the most abundantly available beverage. No, Jamie seems to treat it like it’s oxygen. As if the flood of adoration and acclaim is the air she breathes. Without it, she’d cease to exist, dissolve and crumble into the earth. 

Dani hardly realizes she’s intently staring, likely leering now. It’s such normalcy of hers, to keenly examine and piece together another person’s nature as if Dani is a nifty formula and her subject is a complicated quandary in need of solving. 

She finds it’s impossibly more luring when it’s someone as complex as Jamie, so she remains in this steady study until she is nearly sent reeling when Jamie’s eyes rise, finding hers instantaneously. She smiles warmly, welcoming her with such a foreign sincerity. It’s like she knows Dani. She must know her, right? 

Even more disorienting is what that look instills in Dani. Her eyes tie this knot around Dani, locking around her tight enough where she remains but could easily come undone at her own will. However, Dani can’t help but remain comfortably in that fleeting gaze; could do so forever and call it home if she so wished. 

It unravels swiftly when Dani is the first to look away once the unanticipated balmy and prickling feeling the linked stare accumulated becomes unbearable. She runs a perturbed hand through her hair, intently keeping her eyes latched to the floor as she strides out of Jamie’s view. Away from her, anywhere else. 

• • •

  
Around seven, Owen serves dinner. Dani isn’t too hungry. She most certainly can’t stomach the idea of eating when she can feel someone staring at her periodically. She can feel that twitch of a notification that someone is looking, and Dani is most certain of who it is. And she is beside herself trying to deduce a plausible reason as to why. Why is Jamie looking at her? 

Dani is good at playing oblivious, always has been. She wonders if she achieves the stunt convincingly now. Wondering if her slight dance of a bouncing knee is noticeable as she beseeches herself not to look up where Jamie sits at the head of the table, far but much closer than they have gotten all night. 

It feels like hours sitting there, taking scarce bites and pushing around food as she listens to Jamie’s endless banter and the questions that flood her. Dani jumps when she is asked a few questions and about her opinion on topics. It’s mostly Hannah trying to involve her — as always since she is adamant about Dani meeting new people — but Dani is hardly interested. She’d like to be but something feels incredibly off. It is a dull ache that resides in Dani that makes her just want to call it a night and go home. 

Dani thinks she escapes the worst of it when dinner finishes, and she immediately leaps into the role of cleaning up the table with Hannah. She picks up plates silently at one end of the table whilst Hannah tidies the other end. 

“You alright, love?” Hannah asks.

In the middle of grabbing a glass, Dani hums inquiringly and looks up at Hannah. She processes Hannah’s words and huffs a laugh, nodding assuredly. 

“Fine,” she says. “A bit tired.” 

Hannah looks hardly convinced, but she accepts it. She knows pushing Dani leads to endless cycles of empty reassurances.

As they head to the kitchen, Hannah peeks behind herself at Dani. “You get to meet Jamie?” she asks as she approaches the sink. She carefully places the dishes into the sink and starts the tap. 

Dani swallows. “Uh-not yet,” she says, unloading her share of dishware into the sink. “Couldn’t catch her.” 

“Oh, yes. It’s hard to. They like to pester her to no end,” Hannah said, sounding like she’s cursing her guests for it. 

Dani shrugs and begins drying the proffered dishes Hannah has cleaned. “She seems to like it.” 

“I’m not so sure. Can imagine it’s exhausting. They ask her the same things every time. Poor thing probably has a headache by now. I should ask her-” she says, trailing off as she ponders the actual wellbeing of Jamie.

Dani, on the other hand, doesn’t believe it for a second. Not after watching that proud smile remain erected on Jamie’s face. Jamie loves it, and Jamie is entirely aware that she is interesting. She capitalizes on that attention and uses it for her own gain. 

Hannah bumps Dani with her hip. “I’ve got this, love,” says. Dani attempts to protest, but Hannah shakes her head, tutting to prevent her from getting a word in. “You’re our guest, now go socialize. Will you, for me?” 

Dani groans like an angsty teenager, rolling her eyes. She means for it to be playful, but there is a true tinge of annoyance deep in it. “You sound like my mother,” she teases as she dries her hands, sauntering sullenly out of the kitchen. 

“Oh, Dani, I’m far superior to Karen,” she calls as Dani departs the kitchen 

When Dani reaches the sitting room, she opts for the unoccupied chair in the corner that is far from everyone. She reaches for the liquor cart that is beside her and rummages through for a bottle of something appealing. She decides with the nerves and boredom she has been forced into the entire night, she ought to opt for something harsh. As she pours herself a small glass of brandy, she pretends not to listen to the conversation just a few feet away. Except, she soaks in all of it, observing with keen ears only. 

“I read that you had an exhibition in London just about a month ago,” a man’s voice questions with a thick Scottish accent. Peter, of course, it’s Peter. 

“My. Peter, you read about me?” Jamie asks, her slick accent ridden with mock appalled emotion and finishing rather sarcastically, “Touchin’, Peter. Really it is. It’s surely something to know I have an obsessive fan somewhere.” 

Dani can’t help but snicker with her eyes down, not nearly loud enough for anyone to notice. 

“Peter, I’m only joking’. Yes, I had an exhibition,” she says, pausing to take a drink Dani guesses based on the click of a tongue against teeth as one does after finishing a sip. “It was nice. However, plenty of people did not think so.” 

“How so?” Rebecca asks. 

“Oh, it was a bloody trap.” She laughs incredulously. “My stuff, being the only nude portraits and all, hit a nerve. Prat Tories were the only ones who showed up, and they couldn’t stand seein’ a pair of tits,” she explains dismissively. Her brash nature is appealing to the majority, but it is still shocking to Dani. 

The whole party chuckles. Dani can’t help but simper along with them. 

“Did you always live in London?” Lillian questions. 

There’s a pause. It grows longer than normal, so Dani looks up through her brows unassumingly. She watches Jamie as she sips her drink, gripping it tightly in her lap as she shakes her head. 

“From the north. Grew up a bit in Lancashire, split my time near and around after that. A bit in Yorkshire, a year or two in Liverpool. Think a few weeks in Leeds if I’m remembering correctly. Was booted to London when I was about sixteen, seventeen maybe.” Dani watches her tell the tale, itching the back of her head and blooming a slight shade of pink at her cheekbones. 

“Booted?” Jeremy questions. 

“Yeah, you can say that,” Jamie replies, refusing to elaborate as she pulls her carton of cigarettes out of her breast pocket, resting them on her thigh like a sign of intended departure. She lays a palm over them as her eyes drag to the next person who wants their turn to speak to her. 

As Jamie is asked more questions, seemingly all about home, her forefinger begins to tap on the carton of cigarettes. Thrumming a hollow and rhythmic tune, heartbeat-like and hollow as she articulates another aspect of her narrative. Dani zones into the sound and listens to the way it speeds up as if there is desperation residing there. 

Dani’s eyes drag up Jamie’s torso, up to her eyes where Dani watches a clear contrast between stare and smile unfold. There is an emptiness in those jade eyes but a clear exuberance in her smile which baffles Dani. She looks exhausted, feigning interest with the utmost care and skill to appear heedful and engaged. 

The conversation comes back to London, a tense topic for Jamie it seems. 

When Peter asks, “So, what brought you to London?” with a tone that is dangerously close to taunting, Jamie clears her throat. 

“‘Scuse me a minute,” she says as she wraps her fingers around her cigarettes with a wringing claw. She rises and nods at the guests, then eyes Dani. She lingers on her for a moment, nodding gently and disappearing towards the kitchen. 

The entire party must have noticed the way her eyes stalled on Dani because they have all turned to her. Jamie did a stellar job of handing off the reins of interest to another, an unsuspecting person too like Dani who has not an interesting thing to say. In fact, she feels rather sheepish and small under their gazes, knowing entirely she is their prey and she is going to be ruthlessly fed on. 

“Dani, come sit over here,” Rebecca says, patting the sofa she is sitting upon. Dani reluctantly obliges and sits next to her. Rebecca begins by gushing about Dani, all of her accomplishments as a student and a writer. She has quite a precis; two elite colleges on her back, numerous esteemed publications to boot. However, no one seems to pay much interest because the first question to her is: 

“You had that fella with you last time, didn’t you? What was his name?” Jeremy asks as he snaps his fingers to find the name. 

Although she doesn’t want to, Dani gives in and answers, “Eddie. His name is Eddie.” 

And that opens the floodgates as it usually does. Nothing that leaves their mouths has anything to do with much else but Eddie. Where he is, what he is doing, how they met, why he isn’t there, if they’re married, if they’re getting married. She is overwhelmed with the questions, but she politely answers. Whenever she tries to interject with one thing about herself, she is interrupted by another inquiry regarding her boyfriend. 

Dani thinks she could vomit under this pressure. 

She has always hated this, and it seems to be inescapable. Every person who finds out about Eddie — even gets the smidge of what he is doing — immediately loses their minds. They think that a man, who is at an elite law school, would never have a woman at his side with her own goals, her own ambitions, her own wisdom, and intelligence. No, Dani is a fragment in his story. A piece of his future where she will be his wife, mother of his children, caretaker of his home in Boston. A place she loathes and would want to live almost anywhere else but there. 

No one seems to recognize that Dani was the smart one. Dani was valedictorian. Dani went to Barnard and graduated with a perfect average. Dani has a remarkable intelligence that no one seems to acknowledge. They don’t pay any mind to her wish to become a writer or an esteemed professor, a teacher even. They don’t care about her expansive knowledge regarding literature, politics, and journalism. Of course not, because none of that revolves around Eddie and everyone’s crafted idea of Dani being catapulted into forced domesticity with him in the future. Dani most certainly will not be known merely as some man’s wife. No, she will be more than that. 

She looks around, hankering eyes searching for an escape. The balcony is a shining beacon of hope; the ideal escape. She swallows, dryly stuttering out, “I’m going to get some air.” 

They all mumble or croak out a few confused noises as to object to her quick departure, but Dani ignores them and scurries to the balcony door. As she reaches it, she hears a few of them mutter things regarding if they had said something wrong or what could possibly be upsetting her. She squeezes her hand around the knob until her knuckles are white, wanting more than anything to turn and look at them in confrontation. Tell them that bringing up Eddie was uncalled for. That every single one of them at every one of these damn dinner parties fawn over Eddie or stifle Dani with questions regarding him. There’s never any interest in her. 

But she doesn’t. For the sake of Hannah and Owen. And the idea screams of selfishness and irrationality. She’d shout at them for having an interest in Eddie and not her. She realizes how absurd that sounds. She supposes this just comes with the reality of not one person ever finding interest in her. 

She swings the door open and slips out. Upon closing it, she clenches her eyes shut and leans against it. With her first inhale of simmering breath, she realizes just how rapid her heart is beating against her chest, how nauseated she feels, how her head throbs with frustration and humiliation. 

Hoping that opening her eyes would provide her with comfort given the scenery of a bustling city and glistening lights, she lets her vision flutter alive. Initially, she is met with the consolation of home, seeing the city wide awake in front of her. It’s odd how something so erratic and vivid could bring her a sense of comfort, but somehow it does. Maybe because there is a mutual feeling there. She sees the rampant city, and it resembles the swarm within her. Thoughts that race, flow, clamor, and overwhelm. There is clarity in knowing she has something in common with at least one thing. 

However, her moment of serenity is cut short when she tracks the scene and sees another person on the balcony. Leaning against the steel railing and relishing in the darkness and solitude of the night, is Jamie. She has a cigarette between her lips which she tactfully lights with ease even with the soft breeze that descends upon them given their distance above the ground. 

With her first inhale, she must realize Dani’s presence because she turns her head ever so slightly as she hisses in the burn of the smoke. She exhales slowly towards the city beyond the balcony as her eyes scan Dani from head to toe. 

“Houndin’ you too?” she asks with a gentle and welcoming smile, fully aware that they had. 

Dani clears her throat, knowing that this was bound to happen. The entire night she avoided actually meeting Jamie, but of course, that isn’t how these things work. Of course, her inner turmoil would end in her having to face Jamie. It’s funny how she arrived anticipating their meeting, and now it seems like the most horrendous chore. 

“Yeah,” she sighs as she itches the back of her head and walks over, leaning forward to rest against the railing and leaving about two feet between them. 

An awkward silence besieges them. It’s nearly excruciating, so Dani momentarily peeks behind herself at the door and wonders what would be better. Going inside to face the guests again, or stay out here with a woman she has dreaded encountering all evening. She decides she ought to stick with the latter. If silence is the only thing to come of this encounter then she can happily bear it. 

However, nature loves to torture Dani, so Jamie speaks. 

“Thought you were avoidin’ me,” Jamie playfully chides as she looks over at Dani, her eyes a blaring reminder of her presence. They almost sting in an odd way; the way they shamelessly study her as if Dani isn’t entirely aware of the fact that Jamie is doing so. 

Her comment is almost more troubling. Her expectance is something Dani hadn’t anticipated. In fact, Dani wonders what she could possibly mean. They don’t know each other. They have never met. So, how could Jamie surmise that Dani had been avoiding her?

It’s when Dani peers at her with a puzzled look does she retract, understanding her fault as she inhales another stint of smoke. 

“Hannah talks all about you,” she says as she exhales, smoke blossoming upward, two pairs of eyes watching it rise into the sky. “Dani this, Dani that. Meant to properly introduce myself but had the whole bloody party badgerin’ me. Name’s Jamie,” she says with an offered hand. 

Dani takes it, immediately taking note of her hand’s attributes. The soft light offered from above is just enough to accentuate how taut her hand is. Although her grip is intimidatingly firm, her hand is soft with only the slightest scuff of calluses against her knuckles. 

Their eyes meet, dim blues and greens intertwining seamlessly in a gaze that lasts much longer than necessary; however, there is an undeniable deliberation happening here. Each party in a deep study of the other to gain a full understanding of their intentions and character. 

“Dani,” she introduces with a short smile that she is sure Jamie may have missed completely. She realizes her redundancy because Jamie already knew that. In response, Dani flushes gently and clears her throat, pulling away from Jamie’s grasp abruptly and latching the hand back onto the railing. 

She searches for the right words to say, but she hasn’t the slightest clue how to talk to Jamie. Not only is she slightly daunting, but she is about the last person Dani thinks she’d ever find herself conversing with amicably by choice. She settles with: 

“Hannah talks a lot about me, huh?” Her hand drops to grip and wring anxiously at one of the steel bars of the railing. 

“Oh yeah,” Jamie confirms as she rocks back with hands planted at the railing. She looks over at Dani with that frequently worn smirk. “All about this pretty American friend of hers.” 

She’s brash. Very brash. Already she is taking a leap at subtle flirting. Dani blushes in response, and she is grateful that it is dark because the last thing she needs is Jamie seeing her react so quickly to such a benign attempt at flirting. It would only fuel her puffed-up fire; Dani is much too prideful to allow that. 

Dani decides to play. Let Jamie know that she isn’t like them. That she isn’t easily swooned, that wooing doesn’t work on her. She wishes to establish her nature as a skeptic, not so easily impressed. Jamie will have to try harder. 

A moue marks her face as she eyes Jamie only from her peripheral, shrugging gently. 

“Funny,” she says, pausing as she huffs a cackle, “she never really mentioned you.” 

Dani watches Jamie’s expression furrow, so apparently taken aback by Dani’s honesty. She quietly looks towards the city again, shoulders dipping as she inhales from her cigarette. 

Almost immediately, Dani regrets it. She doesn’t talk to people that way, so brazen and callous. Dani wouldn’t even say something like that to the guests inside who deserved worse. She decides she must backtrack, salvage this in some way, so Jamie doesn’t think she is some menace. 

“I wish she had though. You seem really nice,” she says. If she was trying to be sincere, she missed it entirely because Dani can hear how stale and disingenuous that sounded. It is even more clear when Jamie’s posture wrings tighter, and she looks even more insulted than before. 

Jamie scoffs and shakes her head, scraping her brow with her thumbnail. “Seems nice,” she echoes under her breath. “Hardly, but I thank you for giving me that.” 

Dani opens her mouth to respond, but the right words never come. Yet again, the air falls silent as the pair stare out on the expanse of Manhattan. Dani desperately searches for something to fill this excruciatingly noiseless void. 

“So you’re a student, yeah?” Jamie finally asks after a painful minute. Maybe more than a minute, maybe less. Dani can’t tell. 

Dani only nods, never once peeling her vision from in front of her. Although, she can feel a steady gaze on her. 

Jamie hums and stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray beside her on the glass table. Dani slyly looks over now and watches her pull out her carton of menthols. She flips the top with nimble fingers and pulls a cigarette out with her teeth. 

With the unlit cigarette perched between her lips, she fumbles in her pocket. Once she gets a hold of her matchbook, she tactfully ignites one and lights her smoke. She shakes the flame out and mutters out a muffled, “Erm… what’s the uni here… Universi-”

When Jamie’s eyes look back at her as she fumbles through her question, Dani turns away quickly. She unintentionally interrupts Jamie with, “NYU.” She silently curses how rude that sounded. Softening exponentially, she elaborates, “New York University.” 

“What are you studying?” 

“Literature,” Dani responds monotonously, much too worn from the happenings of earlier to talk about anything at all in her life. “You’re a photographer?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says as she bends her neck to the side for a crack and pulls the cigarette from her lips. “Portraiture.”

Dani nods with an impressed expression that Jamie can’t see given they’re both facing the cityscape. Dani formulates a meaningful response, but it’s cut short by Jamie. 

The brunette exhales and shakes her head lightly, turning so her side leans against the railing now. Her eyes toggle between Dani’s, brow raised and mouth hooked into an incredulous, crooked smirk. Softly, she scoffs and looks down at her shoes, inhaling again from her cigarette and blowing it in a slow trail above her. She itches her temple as if she’s deep in thought. Finally, her eyes return to Dani’s level. 

“You don’t like me do you?” Jamie inquires boldly, voice low as she exhales a plume of smoke in Dani’s direction.

Dani huffs quietly and smiles nervously, fully expecting Jamie to be merely quipping her, but she keeps that look on her face which has not a tinge of tease apparent in it. Still, she wears that rakish smirk and those eyes. Eyes that are obscured by the dark but somehow gleam just perfectly under the moonlight to reveal that intent stare. Staring at her as if she’s known Dani all along, knows every bit of her. Every intricacy, every intention. Is fully aware that Dani is skeptical of her, disappointed even that this is the woman she was ordained to meet.

“I… Wha… What?” Dani stutters out, her heart starting to race a bit, body beginning to tense and run clammy. She peers into Jamie, trying to gather the source of this audacious honesty. “I don’t even… I met you like five minutes ago.” 

Jamie shrugs. “Suppose so,” she says as she extinguishes the only half-finished cigarette out onto the railing itself, pushing it and turning it with force and flicking it off the balcony carelessly. 

She slips her hands into her back pockets and arches, teetering on her heels. She shakes her head and breathily chuckles as she walks to the balcony door. Jamie faces Dani again and gives her a look that is utterly convoluted. It looks impressed with the raise of her brow, maybe a bit hurt, maybe offended with a smidge of endearment. It’s a look that taunts Dani regardless. 

“What’s that saying?” Jamie asks as she motions her hand in a shabby rotation to solicit the rest of her thought. “You have seven seconds to make an impression, yeah? They teach you that one?” Her eyes rake up and down Dani’s figure with a quirked brow and an offset jaw, an expression that is startlingly close to a grimace. She pushes the door open. “Well we certainly had more than seven seconds didn’t we?” 

Jamie seems to relish in the way Dani swallows in trepidation based on the way the corner of her lips lift ever so lightly. 

“‘Night, _Dani_ ,” she says, accentuating her name in a teasing manner. 

Then she is gone, letting the door close behind her. Leaving Dani to stand there stunned, burning with a scarlet flush and a fervent disdain.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Sorry this took so long, and I hope you all enjoyed it. Things are heating up!!
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> (Chapter title comes from Inside Out by Duster.)


	3. she's been here all along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A terrible phone call and an unexpected consolation.

It’s on the second Tuesday of November that Jamie attempts to talk to her again. Three weeks since the night at Hannah and Owen's. 

Sure, nearly every time Dani has wound up in the café she has seen Jamie. Sitting at the bar, smoking a cigarette outside, wandering the place aimlessly as if waiting for something. And Every single time they shared the space and went about their diligent avoidance, they still managed to make even the briefest eye contact. Every one of those paring moments, Jamie smiled at her. That same bowed-headed and nearly-hidden smile that is hardly a smile at all. It’s a rather cheeky smirk, hooked at one end with one eye that is dangerously close to giving her a tantalizing wink. 

The first time Dani saw it, that same disdain flourished, but as these encounters ensued, Dani found herself looking closer. It was the fifth time she saw that look that Dani saw something indecipherable that she had never seen before. 

But, it’s today that Dani finally gets to see it from a distance that doesn’t feel like a comfortable few miles away. It’s right here, hoisting herself onto a stool and greeting Dani impartially. Jamie sits to her right, taking off her sunglasses and slipping them into the breast pocket of her black, denim jacket — well, it can hardly be called a jacket at all; it’s more of an oversized sheath of fabric that seems to engulf her small frame entirely. 

Owen and Jamie share a silent nod and smile, a friendship so congenial and immediate that they hardly have to speak to one another to know what the other means to express. He’s off preparing her the cup of tea she must have silently requested, and Dani finds it much more suitable to watch him do the task than face Jamie beside her.

In fact, Dani wonders why Jamie is beside her at all given the tension that is still festering. She wonders if Jamie hasn’t recognized the tension that prospers between them. To her it is undeniable.

Owen returns with a cup of tea, sliding it in front of Jamie. 

“How’s the new gig?” he asks as he leans forward against the bartop, eyeing Jamie with anticipation. 

“S’fine,” she shrugs as she brings the beige beverage to her lips. “Not ideal, the drive is a hell of a drag, but if it’s what keeps me here then I can’t complain.”

Dani looks between them, unaware as to why she is intrigued by this conversation, but she is nevertheless. 

Owen catches her blatant curiosity and faces her. “Jamie, here, is working up in Woodstock,” he says with a rather proud smile, almost brotherly, which makes Jamie roll her eyes gently and look away bashfully.

“Upstate?” Dani asks. 

Jamie nods and clicks her teeth to her tongue after a sip of the tea. She folds her hands around the beverage and looks down into the cup. “Doin’ some landscaping work up there... had to make a couple quid somehow.” 

Along with Owen’s chuckle, Dani nods with an impressed frown, not giving the new information a moment’s more thought or interest before looking back down at her notebook where she scribbles notes for class. She hears Owen greet another customer and walk off to help him at the pastry case. 

A dull, nonplussed tinge encompasses Dani as she senses Jamie hovering. It’s hardly noticeable, subtle in every way, but it is there. Dani can’t seem to pinpoint why Jamie’s presence seems to heighten her senses, but even the mere existence of a deep stare is apparent and distracting. 

“Whatcha workin’ on?” Jamie asks. 

“Notes,” Dani replies bluntly, continuing to write her outline for an upcoming paper. 

Jamie hums, then takes a sharp inhale of breath along with a creak to her stool as she repositions. 

A strained silence hovers. The kind that urges Dani to say something just to dissolve the growing tension, but she can’t even conjure up something meaningful to say to Jamie. What does she say to someone who she is damn near loathing? 

“For class?” Jamie inquires again. 

Dani scrunches her eyes and sighs, looking over at Jamie with a crooked jaw and an indignant stare. She knows it is strikingly obvious what she is doing, or trying to do, and she isn’t pleased that Jamie, of all people, is interrupting.

“Yes,” she says. Despite her affronted emotions, the modest hiss in her voice manages to still stun her. 

It seems to startle Jamie just as much as it did herself based on the way she subtly edges back, leering at Dani incredulously. She shags a hand through her curls, her gaze averting elsewhere as she releases a miffed scoff. 

When Jamie’s eyes return to stare into her own, she feels exposed. Akin to the way a disgruntled adult looks at a meek, disobedient child. 

“I’m trying here, you know?” she begins, strong but still calm. “I’ve got Hannah on my arse trying to-”

“So that’s what this is?” Dani interjects with gall, internally wondering where this bravery has come from. Maybe it’s because there is a part of her that is irked with Hannah always trying to push her to be social. Dani sees nothing wrong with her reluctance to get to know other people. “You’re only doing this because Hannah is making you.”

“That’s not even remotely what I said… or what I was trying to say,” Jamie replies, voice glazed with a new flame. 

“Then what do you mean?” Dani inquires, shifting in her seat to insist upon her aspersion. 

“That I need to apologize for whatever  _ I  _ did that night, and I’m not so sure I did anything wrong.” 

There is a charged and uncomfortable pause where Jamie waits for a response that never comes for Dani has no idea what to say. 

“I think it’s you who’s got the problem with me. Am I wrong?” Jamie continues. 

Still, Dani remains silent. Her lips part as she feels she is obligated to say something, but her mind is a flurry of disorderly replies that never expel. She reasons she can’t say a thing because she’s never done well under pressure like this, to defend herself, especially when Jamie has got her doubting her motives entirely now. 

When she gains a new perception of Jamie, one that appears to be disappointed and even a bit hurt, she starts to gather the inkling that she may not have a defense at all in this confrontation. Dani hates to be wrong, but she is starting to think she may have surmised the wrong idea about Jamie.

However, as someone who has never given the chance to trust, who has lived nearly every moment of her life as a skeptic, Dani stays stolid. Which only seems to send Jamie farther away and giving up on any attempt to repair what’s gone on between them. She only shakes her head and raises her brows, looking at her lap as if Dani is the most impossible being she has ever come across. 

Upon Dani’s persisting despondency, Jamie grumbles a hardly audible sound. “Forget it,” she says exasperatedly and slides off the stool, walking off and pushing herself vexedly out of the café door. 

It isn’t until Friday that Dani finds it in her to return to the café. 

It wasn’t necessarily her plan; however, her stride has absentmindedly drug her in this direction. For this Friday has left her in a state of disarray. The morning saw Dani toiling through its entirety, then she found herself loading onto a cramped train, landing back outside on the streets of Chelsea as she has every day. Except for today the afternoon sun uncharacteristically blares down for a day in November, and the streets are bustling with loud and intimidating chaos. The scenery only expands the torture Dani is enduring on the other end of a heated phone call with Eddie as she makes her way aimlessly down the expansive Chelsea streets as she hardly has it in her to pay any mind to direction. 

She knows this argument is her fault as she’s been beating around the bush about going back to Iowa for the holiday, and she’s now facing the consequences of ignoring Eddie’s adamant requests. She knows better, has always known better than to do this to Eddie. Organized and determined Eddie takes nothing less than a straightforward answer, and Dani is facing the consequences. 

It’s exactly when Dani gets so frustrated with Eddie and spits a rather nasty, “I’m not going back home with you, Eddie,” that all hell breaks loose. They are catapulted into a tumultuous and clamoring territory that they have never encountered before. Sure, they have had heated arguments, but even that has happened only twice before, leading to the two of them parting ways both times over their eight-year relationship. She wonders now why she ever went back. 

And it’s with Dani’s bewilderment that she ever let herself endure this kind of mistreatment that she is motivated to match his anger. It’s been an evaded enclave for far too long, so she is driven to shout when he shouts. She insults when he insults. It’s years of pent-up vexation and affliction that barrels out, and it’s not until they abruptly end the conversation does she realize she has fallen into a fit of inconsolable tears. 

Culminating is an overwhelming and sobering embarrassment as she realizes the fact that she is in an overt position, making her emotional matters only worse. She pivots in her path and hides in an alley between two buildings. She is hardly hidden from the public eye, but she is provided enough secrecy where she doesn’t have to face the curious eyes that are probably searching for the source of the bedlam. 

Dani presses her back flush against a brick wall and grips the phone against her chest, tight enough that she believes she just might destroy the device in her hands. She exhales a shaky breath, composing herself as best she can and extinguishing whatever snarling flame that is blooming in her veins. With one more sharp exhale, she turns back to the street, realizing how close she is to Owen’s café, and decides upon its comfort as an imperative haven.

Emerging through the door is a rosy-faced Dani. Face splotched with the residue of tears and a sting so vibrant in her eyes that they can hardly be kept open long enough to fend off the oncoming tears. Regardless of the emotions that are running ragged within her, she slides into a booth without a word in her characteristic manner of pretending that nothing is wrong. She prevails in this peachy facade when she pulls out her novel and notebook, diving into her studies despite a racing mind. 

With one last tremulous exhale and a hefty swallow of the pesky lump in her throat, she decides she won’t continue to cry over this. In fact, she won’t give this situation another ounce of her attention in fear of some kind of impending humiliation. She has no such desire for eyes on her, for scrutiny, for consolation. 

She bounces her knee and repeatedly pushes the piston of her pen which elicits a rhythmic click that is distracting enough to keep her from breaking down. Her eyes remain on the page in front of her, not one word perceived or retained. She doesn’t even think she has it in her to read, but it gives her something to look at, something to keep her concentration on instead of the turmoil sprinting around her mind.

Familiar mumbling streams gently from the bar. She’s well aware that the three people there — Hannah, Owen, and Jamie — are all looking on in her direction. Probably wondering what is wrong with her, why she stormed in and didn’t offer her usual chipper greeting wave and  _ hello.  _

It’s confirmed when she can hear the sound of padding boots grow closer until they halt just beside her table, but Dani refuses to look up at the beholder. She knows who is there. It’s not because of the fact that Hannah has a lighter gait or the fact that Owen has a heavier footing. No, it’s something much more. There is a presence to this person that is undeniably distinctive. Not a glimpse is needed; it’s just the sole complexion this person exudes that has Dani knowing immediately who stands beside her, and she won’t dare look up. 

Jamie delivers a sympathetic huff, and the sound in itself is so cringe-inducing, Dani mistakes it for fingernails dragging down a chalkboard. Much to Dani’s chagrin, Jamie slips into the booth across from her. Dani’s eyes remain locked on the same page she has been looking at since she sat down. It gives her an excuse not to look at Jamie. 

It’s an excruciating time that passes in deafening silence between the two. Dani thinks it feels like hours, but realistically it may only have been a minute or so. She still hasn’t turned the page, and she still hasn’t acknowledged Jamie’s company. 

“Interesting page?” Jamie quips playfully. A new jest that isn’t smug but instead engaging, a way to get Dani at least partially out of her rut. However, thorough cynicism has Dani not responding in any way. 

Jamie tuts as she realizes her attempt has not been taken the way she intended, and she sighs in what Dani assumes in deep contemplation of how to approach this situation. If there is one thing that Dani knows surely about Jamie, is she is attentive and deliberate. She won’t say something unless she means it, and it’s clear now in her focused search for the right thing to say. 

If there is anything that Dani is expecting to hear, however, it certainly isn’t what Jamie says:

“You alright, Dani?” she inquires with the most genuine concern Dani thinks she has ever heard from a person aside from Hannah. However, it’s hardly the sincerity that stuns her, it’s the fact that these words have come from the least expected person imaginable. 

The question itself holds this power, permeating with insurmountable respect and solicitude, that smashes a sledgehammer through whatever wall Dani was trying to hold up. It settles her rigidity to the point that her lip trembles and she must trap the sob that is threatening to spill out. 

Dani drops her pen and lets go of her book as she whips her head tactfully into an immediate crane, facing away from Jamie to avoid her from seeing the assiduous strain to hold back her tears. She rests her chin against her shoulder to ensure she doesn’t slip from this cover. 

She listens closely to the sound of Jamie repositioning, hearing the swished swipe of a sleeved arm reaching against the table. 

“Hm,” Jamie hums. “A bit of Hemingway, eh?” 

Dani listens to the hollow sound of the paperback hitting the tabletop on Jamie’s side and the flutter of shuffling pages under her thumb. She feels a slight annoyance boil in the pit of her stomach at the idea of Jamie in her space, touching her things. However, her conscientious attempt to stay composed and hidden prevents her from intervening. 

“ _ Farewell to Arms,”  _ Jamie mutters, punctuating every word. “Sad one this is.”

“Yeah,” Dani croaks, entirely giving away her state. She curses herself for responding. Not only has she displayed her vulnerability but she has given into a dialogue with Jamie that she certainly doesn’t want. 

“Good one though. Had a good cry or two while reading it.” Dani hears the sharp sound of a page turning, then another. Then, the book is being slid back to her. 

Jamie’s words make her relax a bit as she finds the inkling of Jamie enjoying this kind of literature entirely dubious. She’s aware that it’s an unsound assumption to make, but she finds it hard to believe Jamie would delve into material such as this — raw and emotional. She soon finds herself wondering why this perplexity she holds even matters at all. 

Dani decides to push it farther anyway, facing her with a curiously quirked brow. “You read it?” she asks.

“Sure I have. Many times,” she replies as her hands come together to clasp atop the table. She locks her gaze on Dani, and they remain in this shared study for a bit. “What?” Jamie chuckles with knit brows at Dani’s contemplative peering.

“Never took you as…” Dani begins, halting when she realizes she has no idea where she intends this comment to go. 

“What? As someone who reads?” 

Dani’s eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “No, no… I mean… well, no-”

“My God, Dani, I’m not illiterate,” Jamie says wryly. 

“No,” Dani nearly exclaims, hand involuntarily reaching forward to repair and console, but it stops at the halfway mark atop the wooden surface. 

Glimmering green eyes and an endearingly brazen smirk glide along her features to shadow her previously tight, offended appearance. 

“Fuckin’ with you, Dani,” she chuckles, her hand coming up to tousle her brown curls before returning her hands into their clasped orientation. “But I get it,” she says as she grips either side of her collar and flicks them with a swagger, a feigned flinty and nonchalant expression to pair with it. “I’m too tough to read Hemingway.” 

Dani can’t help but huff a tearful laugh at her lightheartedness. She sniffles and dabs a knuckle under her eyes to do away with the lingering moisture there. 

From there, the conversation stagnates. Dani hardly knows what to say, and she can tell Jamie doesn’t either. It isn’t like either of them really knows how to go about each other. There was never a proper introduction where they could recognize their subtleties and instill unspoken boundaries. Civil exchange almost seems impossible. 

“I’ve got a thing for stuff like that,” Jamie decides on breathily. “The stories that really hit you. Makes you really think about the world. Why people do what they do. Can even get you questioning what the point of any of this is.” Jamie loosely gestures her hands around her to reference the entirety of the world.

“Very philosophical of you,” Dani remarks impishly with a minute squint and simper. 

“Thank you,” Jamie says, knowing entirely that it wasn’t necessarily a compliment, more of a dig if anything. “In fact, you’re right.” She parts her lips to continue but stops abruptly, putting up an index finger to insinuate a brief departure from their conversation. 

Dani watches her hurry to the bar, rummaging through her bag atop one of the stools. She returns with a tattered and yellowed paperback, presenting it to the blonde. 

“This is my favorite novel,” she smiles proudly before flipping through it quickly in admiration. 

“Carry that around with you-”

“Everywhere?” Jamie finishes. “Could say that. Have had this thing since I was seventeen.” 

Dani reaches her hands out, taking the book from Jamie’s grasp as a reference to her brash nature of touching Dani’s things earlier without permission. It’s puckish but intentional.  _ Tit for tat,  _ Dani thinks. 

“ _ Nausea _ ?” Dani asks as she studies the black cover, adorned by shadowed sketches of a distressed man. Her eyes rise to Jamie expectantly. 

Jamie hums in confirmation. “It follows a bloke named Antoine. Real sad man… losin’ all sense of himself,” she explains, looking at the book in Dani’s hands and sighing a sound that conveys her deep admiration and resonance with the material. “He gets this-uh… sense of nausea and he stops enjoying things. He realizes that… there may not be much meaning to his existence after all because of it.” 

Dani exhales through her nostrils and looks at the back cover, studying the print on the back. “Sounds bleak and...” 

“Borin’?” Jamie finishes, an illegible challenge in her voice. 

Dani shakes her head. “Just sounds sad.” She turns the book back to the front cover. “Sartre?” she inquires curiously. 

“Mhm… one of the best philosophers out there.”

“Oh, so you are in fact philosophical.” 

Jamie laughs softly as she takes the book back from Dani’s offering hand, closing her eyes and bowing her head as if it is a shameful disclosure. “Yes, yes I am…” 

It’s with that simple, probably meaningless, confession does it click for Dani. She’s unsure if it is purely coincidental, or if it’s the newly conceived idea of Jamie’s self-effacing intelligence that elicits this novel perception. Regardless, all of these little nuances captured in just a short exchange come together to rearrange the pre-conceived notion Dani held of Jamie into something entirely distinctive. It’s that charming gleam in her eye. It’s the way she expresses her genuine nature in a simple smile. It was in the effortless sequence Jamie undertook to soothe Dani in her moment of distress. 

It’s then that Dani realizes that whatever she encountered that night at the dinner party wasn’t the authentic Jamie. Jamie is kind. Jamie is humble. Jamie is everything but what Dani believed to be true about her. Because of that, Dani is swathed with insurmountable remorse. 

After an eon of silence, Jamie sighs and eyes Dani with a heeding gaze. “Now, I’m gonna ask you again. You don’t have to tell me… but are you alright?” 

“They send you over here to ask me that?” Dani tests, a way to confirm Jamie’s sincerity. 

Jamie huffs and shakes her head. “In all honesty, Hannah warned me not to. Said you wouldn’t want to be bothered by me. I’m stubborn though.” 

“At least you’re self-aware,” Dani retorts with a roguish smile before falling plaintive once more as she’s reminded of her less than savory situation. “I’m fine… just got a… boyfriend in Boston.” She cringes at the information she has voluntarily offered; she’d rather just reach out desperately and collect it back into the cavern where it rested before, forgetting that anything was shared at all. 

Jamie only nods consideringly. “He upset you, huh? Sounds like a real fine guy.” 

Dani softly laughs. “He’s alright.”

The look Jamie is giving her is strikingly observant. Whatever guard Dani has propped in front of herself, Jamie sees straight through. Green eyes drill into her, sharp and understanding.

It should make Dani feel vulnerable and daunted, but it doesn’t. On the contrary, it’s comforting. It sends a gust of relief flowing through Dani because there is finally someone who understands her, a person who will listen instead of reprimand. There is a newly established presence of validation that she never knew she needed until now.

“I’m sorry,” Dani finally says, her eyes dipping sheepishly to the tabletop where her fingernail runs back and forth over a worn divet in the wood. 

“No, no don’t be sorry. You can be upset about the guy-”

Dani interrupts with a dismissive hand, head raising but eyes closed as she prepares to present unabashed culpability, “No, about that night. I was a real…  _ asshole _ .” 

Jamie shrugs along with a sigh, imbuing a justifying and indifferent nature. “Not too unfamiliar with not being liked,” she admits as she sits with her back flush against the booth, arms raised to line the top trim of the seat. Her eyes stare at her finger that runs along the wood to collect any remnants of dust. Her voice dips in volume and pitch, “I get it… you don’t have to be sorry about not liking me, Dani… I just want to make sure that you’re al-” 

“No, I do. Because you’re nice. Too nice… to me at least. And… I know that you are only trying to talk to me because Hannah feels bad for me… because I don’t really… talk to people. But-”

She quickly eyes Dani with knit brows. “Hey, hey. Has nothin’ to do with Hannah,” she staunchly insists, thankfully cutting off whatever stint of nervous rambling Dani was about to fall into. “She only told me about a friend of hers that I’d like to meet. That she is a little weird, likes to read, knows the city. You seemed like my kind of person.”

“Hannah said I was weird?” Dani asks with a stung frown. 

Returning is Jamie’s sportive stare and smirk, remarking with mock pride, “May have added that bit in myself.” 

Dani knows she should be taken aback, but something about it only reduces whatever animosity was left between them. She sees Jamie now, sees her intentions front and center under a bright light where every intricacy can’t possibly be mistaken. 

With an inviting smile on her face, she leans forward, elbows perched on the table and chin resting in palms. “Wanna start over?” she offers, hope layered in her voice. 

Jamie arches her back briefly before matching the same lean into the table, mirroring the same simper on Dani’s own features. “Sure.” 

Dani inhales. “Well, I’m Dani Clayton-”

Jamie drops her head and snorts a laugh, obviously unaware that this was the path this was going. But like Dani, she knows a proper introduction is necessary, so she reverts to an agreeable nod and gives Dani her full regard. 

“I’m from Iowa… I live in Chelsea now. I read a lot,” she says as she holds up the novel then placing it back down, “Love movies too.”

Jamie runs a hand through her hair, fingers stilling for an itch at her scalp, and hesitantly saying, “Um… Guess I’m Jamie Taylor-”

“You don’t sound so sure,” Dani teases.

Jamie tilts her head, huffing a delighted sound that sends a flutter of exultation floating through Dani. “M’from Lancashire… I live in… erm…” she pauses, scrunching an eye shut as she tries to recall the still unfamiliar neighborhood she resides in. 

“Greenwich Village,” Dani whispers as a reminder. 

“Greenwich Village,” Jamie says, with a tinge in her voice that Dani declares is a surprising amount of demure, “and I also read a lot. I do some gardenin’, photography too… mostly.” 

Dani nods and bites back the grin that is trying so hard to come through. She hates to think what the expression on her face looks like given the pride and relief she feels to have gotten here to a new harmony. It’s something special, Dani supposes, something so awfully and inexplicably special. 

“Nice to meet you, Jamie Taylor,” Dani says, reaching out her hand.

Jamie stares at it for a beat before taking it into her own, giving it the same tough yet welcoming shake before offering Dani a gentle and content smile. “Nice to meet you, Dani.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally so sorry this took so long. Classes are really kicking my ass *cries*. Big thank you to shknofftherust for letting me throw drafts and questions over all the time. Means a ton, buddy.
> 
> I hope everyone liked this! Love to see all your comments!
> 
> (Chapter title comes from Sarah by Sandy (Alex G) )

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi over on tumblr! My user over there is dxbshevd, just like on here.


End file.
